Between the Light and the Shadow
by Tonight's The Night
Summary: Syaoran's greatest fear has always been losing Sakura. But there is another fear, one he hoards to himself in the darkness of the night, that steals his peace of mind even when he should be safe. Oneshot.


_Between the Light and the Shadow_

* * *

Syaoran laid the princess on the bed and drew the sheets around her body. "Goodnight," he whispered. She didn't stir at his words; her face retained that eerie, lifeless expression she'd worn since the beginning of this journey.

Before losing her memories, Sakura had tossed and turned at night, vibrantly alive even in repose. Her nighttime habits had returned somewhat with each feather she regained, but these days, her body often remained dormant.

As if she was dead.

He shoved the thought away. He'd ensured, for a while at least, that Sakura would live. They'd collected enough feathers that she was almost able to function normally, even if she sometimes displayed a lack of energy.

Syaoran sighed, eyes sliding over to the window. Shadows loomed in the street beyond, perfect places for Onii to hide. He and Kurogane had been out late last night, dispatching some of the weaker hoards. This morning and most of this afternoon had been devoted to sword practice.

_I need sleep, _he thought, lifting a hand to massage the tender skin under his eyes. Sleep was rare enough on a normal night. Having Onii lurking beyond his window sapped what little peace of mind that remained to him.

Casting one final glance at Sakura's unconscious body, he slipped out of her room and trudged over to his own.

"Going to bed already, Syaoran-kun?" Fai piped up from the kitchen.

Syaoran smiled. "Yeah. Long day." He looked to Kurogane, who was in the middle of pouring himself a glass of liquor. "If that's okay . . ."

The ninja looked over, raising an eyebrow at the implied request. Syaoran edged toward his room, praying he'd manage a few hours of sleep before the ninja roused him for training.

Kurogane shrugged. "Do whatever you want."

Syaoran smiled and slipped into his bedroom, flicking the light-switch with his thumb so he could see while he dressed for bed. He pulled a candle from the dresser drawer, along with some clothes for the night. He lit the candle with the lighter he carried with him, glad he'd thought to invest in one since arriving in Outo. A dozen potential uses for the tool flitted through his mind—a weapon, a way to start a campfire, a tool of destruction . . .

Tonight, its only purpose was to light the candle on his desk.

The wick flared to life, glowing sunset orange. Syaoran set the lighter aside and donned his pajamas. When he was ready, he walked to the light-switch to shut off the overhead lamp.

When he did, all the light fled from the room save for the weak beacon of the candle flame. The temperature seemed to drop a few degrees, the hairs on his arms rising as the inky blackness of the night seeped in through the windows. With wooden legs, Syaoran returned to the single bed and wrapped himself in the sheets.

The candle flame guttered, as if it was about to go out. Syaoran tensed, fingers tightening around the folds of the blanket as the tiny beacon wavered. A moment later, though, it flared back to life, steady and bright enough to drive away the worst of his unease. He stared at the little flame for a while, childishly fearing something in the air would stir and extinguish the candle, leaving him in darkness. But nothing did.

Minutes passed. More than anything, he wanted to drift off, give himself over to the fragmented dreams that occupied his sleeping mind. Perhaps he would dream of a time with Sakura, before she'd lost her memories.

He couldn't fall asleep.

The minutes stretched on, until half an hour had passed. Then an hour. He heard Fai sigh and turn in for the night, teasing Kurogane before he disappeared into their shared room. The ninja responded with a death threat, though his voice was too weary to sound serious.

Wax dripped down the narrow candle, pooling in the brass candleholder below. Every so often, the flame would flicker, making shadows dance across the beige walls like demons swarming in the corners of his room. Outside, the wind moaned, loud enough to make him shiver.

Some nights were worse than others. Tonight was one of those nights.

_I should blow out the candle before it starts something on fire, _he thought. That would be an ironic way to go—burning to death after being attacked in almost every world they'd been in. But it was a risk nonetheless, and if their temporary house _did _start on fire, he wasn't sure Sakura could wake up in time to escape.

_Might as well do it now, _he thought, as the wavering flame made the shadows writhe. He exhaled, flinching at every creak of the bedsprings as he leaned closer to his desk. _The dark is nothing to be afraid of. _

His lips were only inches from the flames now. He gathered his courage, as he'd done before he'd walked through fire to snatch Sakura's feather away from Masoyoshi's Kudan, and blew out the candle.

The darkness bled across the sphere of illumination, like ink spilling across a page.

Syaoran drew in a shuddery breath. Exhaled. _It's not _so _dark, _he told himself, trying to catch a glimpse of the moon beyond his window. He saw nothing. _That's a good sign. The Onii are stronger during a full moon. I should be glad it's dark tonight. _

He rolled over in his sheets, closing his eyes. Father had told him the dark was nothing to be scared of, and after all he'd seen on this journey, he had to admit that broad daylight carried its own risks.

Fifteen minutes passed. Thirty. An hour.

Syaoran rolled over again, exhausted and restless at the same time. Perhaps he should've let the candle burn out on its own rather than extinguishing it prematurely. Now there was nothing to guard against the pervasive shadows that cloaked his room. But lighting it again would require him to fumble through his drawers for the lighter, and he didn't want to wake anyone with his nighttime activities.

Exasperated, he flung off his blankets and got to his feet. His mind was too busy for sleep anyway.

He walked over to his door, wincing when the floorboards groaned under his weight. Perhaps searching for the lighter wouldn't have been so loud, after all . . .

The living room was bright, but not so bright as to hurt his eyes. He walked sluggishly, rubbing his eyes, not sure of his destination.

"Having trouble sleeping?"

Syaoran glanced up, then hastily looked down. "A little," he admitted.

Kurogane watched him for a few seconds, then set down his shot glass. He must not have been drinking too heavily, because he wasn't the least bit wobbly as he stood. "Something bothering you, or what?" the ninja asked, obviously uncomfortable expressing concern.

Syaoran shrugged, not wanting to admit the reason behind his poor sleeping habits. It was shameful, really. Children were supposed to be afraid of the dark, not him. He had to finish what he set out to do; his job would only be more difficult if he didn't get some rest.

Yet he couldn't go back to face the darkness. Not tonight, not in this world where monsters really _did _lurk in the shadows.

Kurogane sighed. "If you're upset over what happened with the princess—"

"That's not it," he said quickly, though the words did bring him back to Sakura's earlier words. She'd been so close to remembering him, so close to fitting the pieces back together—watching her face go blank the moment the truth occurred to her had wounded him more deeply than he cared to admit.

Kurogane stared at him for several seconds, assessing whether or not he was telling the truth. After a moment, he slumped back into the chair he'd been sitting in when Syaoran had first wandered in. "Come over here and have a drink."

"I shouldn't," Syaoran said. His head throbbed at the thought of tomorrow's hangover.

"Just one glass. It'll help you sleep."

The assurance startled him, though he supposed it made sense, given that passing out was a symptom of drunkenness. He approached the counter where customers drank coffee during the day and took a seat beside Kurogane. The ninja poured him a shot. A whiff of alcohol filled his nostrils as he lifted the clear fluid to his lips. The liquid burned on the way down his throat. "Thanks," he said.

"Don't mention it." Kurogane poured himself a shot, downed it in one gulp, then poured another. Several seconds passed as the ninja scrutinized his face. "So what's bothering you, if not the princess?"

"It's nothing, really." _I'm just afraid of the dark. _

Kurogane made a frustrated sound at the back of his throat. "Quit acting like the mage and tell me what's going on."

Syaoran looked up, startled. Kurogane's piercing gaze demanded an honest answer; Syaoran looked down. "You'll think it's ridiculous."

"Tell me anyway."

He hesitated, taking another dainty sip from his glass to buy time. With an audible _clink_, he set the glass on the counter. "I . . ." He shook his head, disgusted with himself. "I'm afraid of the dark."

There was a beat of silence. Syaoran braced himself for whatever reaction his confession would cause. Scorn, incredulity, laughter . . .

Kurogane set his shot glass down and turned toward him. "Afraid of the dark, huh?"

Syaoran felt the heat rise to his cheeks. His throat closed up, and his fingers wrapped around the raised edge of the countertop. "Yeah. Like I said, ridiculous."

"I don't think so," Kurogane disagreed, resting a hand on his shoulder. The gesture surprised Syaoran enough to look up.

Kurogane's eyes were a thousand miles away. When he spoke, it was as if reciting something he'd heard a thousand times before. "Lots of things can hide in the dark. Sometimes it's safer to be afraid."

Syaoran stared at him, unsure what to make of that. It certainly wasn't comforting like the assurances his father had always made, but it was . . . honest. Honest in a way that was almost comforting despite the underlying message.

"Is it like that in your world? Are there dangerous things in the dark?"

"Yes. Demons—stronger demons than the ones in this world." Kurogane downed the glass in front of him and poured himself another shot. "I used to be afraid of them, before I learned how to kill them."

Syaoran couldn't imagine the ninja being afraid of anything. "Really?"

Kurogane nodded. "There's no sense in pretending you're not afraid when you are. The best way to get rid of your fear is to grow strong enough that you don't have to fear anything anymore."

Syaoran blinked, absorbing that.

"You should go back to bed. You can light a candle, if it helps."

He swallowed the last half-inch of liquor in his glass and stood up. The alcohol hadn't really hit his system yet—his legs felt perfectly steady. But perhaps it was affecting his judgment, because he never would've asked the next question that came to his mind if he'd been completely sober. "Are you ever afraid?"

The ninja arched an eyebrow. "You mean now?"

Syaoran nodded.

Kurogane leaned back in his chair, pondering that for a moment. His gaze grew distant once again, thoughtful. "Sometimes," he finally said, his face softening. "When there's some threat too intangible to fight, or when people that matter to me are threatened. But even the darkest night yields to the sunrise." He looked down, as if expecting another question.

Syaoran considered the words for several seconds, then nodded slowly. "Thanks. I think . . . I think that helps."

Kurogane reached forward and tousled his hair. "Good. Now go back to bed."

Syaoran obeyed, slipping silently into his room and closing the door behind him.

The corners of the room didn't seem quite so dark anymore.


End file.
